Dark Horizons (The Red Sector Chronicles) Read Free

that’s lost signal .
    “Do you guys have a, I don’t know, unified language?” I asked.
    Aden shrugged. “Not really. English tends to be the most common, with a scattering of others. The government thought about making it the primary language but later dropped tha t idea. Imagine trying to teach a three-hundred -year- old Italian vampire English, and you’ll see why they did. The brain’s capacity for learning starts to go after a while.”
    For the most part, the civilians were dressed in twenty-first century attire, though I caught sight of an elderly gentleman who looked like he’d stepped off the set of Gladiator .
    Aden whistled , surveying the vampires along with me. “Seems the crowd isn’t taking the overthrow of their e mperor too well.”
    “How did they find out so fast?” I asked. “It’s been, like, thirty minutes.”
    “Vampire media is no different from humans’. A hot story will usually catch fire and spread fast. As for t he signs and stuff, the proteste rs probably grabbed whatever they had at home and marched over here as soon as the story broke. The city’s not far.”
    I squinted. He was right. Some people had signs, though only a few of them were in English. They said things like “Long live Nero,” whic h was my brother’s alias, and “m ilitary dictatorship” with a big red X running over the words.
    Several protesters were being interviewed or screaming at the line of shield-wielding militia standing in front of the main entrance. Every single one of the soldiers wore gas masks.
    So far it looked like the protest was still under control, since the crowd wasn’t pushing against the barrier or anything. As I’d grown used to doing, I scanned the entire area and found several black, nearly indiscernible forms sprinkled along the rooftops.
    Snipers.
    Beside me, Aden shuddered and my attention snapped back to him. “Come on,” I said, taking his hand and charging forward.
    I approached the crowd without slowing. Angry mob or not, I was getting into that building .
    No paths opened up as we approached, so I decided to make one. Turning sideways, I began shoving my way through, tugging Aden along behind me. For the most part, the proteste rs parted with ease, too caught up in their cause to notice one more person shoving them around.
    It wasn’t until we were actually in the heart of the crowd that I noticed some of the soldiers were trying to hand out masks exactly like Aden’s. An official stood off to the side, blaring urgent instructions to place the masks on immediately, but that only seemed to fuel the crowd’s anger. They ri pped the masks from the soldier s ’ hands, threw them on the ground, and stomped on them. One guy even ripped his in half like a barbarian. Some of the reporters, casting nervous glances at each other, accepted the masks, putting them on without question, while others seemed more worried it would mess up their makeup or hide their million-dollar smiles.
    One reporter jerked her arm out to grab a mask right in front of my face, and I nearly slammed into her. “Put this on,” she ordered her cameraman, snapping her own mask into place. “It will look more authentic. Our bosses are going to love this!”
    Something about that really struck a nerve. “Are you kidding me?” I yelled. “We’re in the middle of a crisis, and all you care about is your damn story?”
    The girl turned to me with a vicious, cherry-lipstick smile, eyeing me up and down. When her eyes reached my face again, they were wide with a mixture of fear and excitement. “ Sloane? The Sloane McAllister?”
    I felt myself pale and quickly cleared my throat, making to move past her. “You must be mistaking me for someone else.”
    A manicured hand slapped down on my shoulder, and I spun, taking it and starting to twi st her toward my body in an arm lock. “Sloane!” Aden hissed, grabbing me before I could get very far with it. “Don’t. The media doesn’t need any more gossip